


One Warm Foot

by Jenniwrites



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenniwrites/pseuds/Jenniwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before the wedding and Astrid has cold feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Warm Foot

**One Warm Foot**

Astrid took refuge at The Cove and paused to look at her reflection in its moon lit waters. She needed to be somewhere quiet. There were too many people in Berk at the moment, too much commotion, too much excitement, too many details to attend to and too many doting hands and wagging tongues making a fuss. It was all too much. She couldn’t breathe. She could relax here.

 

Astrid adeptly looped her thumb under the leather cord that secured her braid. With nimble fingers she pulled loose the interwoven strands of hair until her flaxen locks spilled freely over her shoulders.

 

“Maybe I should have worn it down more when I had the chance,” she thought to herself.

 

She brought her fingers up to the kransen on her forehead. Tomorrow morning the studded leather bands she had worn around her head since her first blood moon would be stored away in her dowry chest, waiting for a daughter of her own to come of age.

 

She didn’t understand why she was having cold feet. This marriage was what she wanted. She had waited for him. The reward: the honour of being married to the chief.

 

But there was a time when she didn’t want to be married.

 

She was barely 14 when she became a woman. Her mother wanted to celebrate her coming of age. Zandra was excited to prepare Astrid for that season’s Thing, to prove she could be a good wife, to make her family proud.

 

However, Astrid resisted. Several of the village girls had been married the previous fall and she wanted no part of it. The thought of being cooped up all day with the matters of running a household, of raising children, of serving a husband she’d probably lose to war, held no appeal for her.  Astrid saw the crimson flow as the end of her freedom. She decided if she was going to bleed she wanted to bleed for Berk and begged her mother to let her choose the path of a shield maiden. She would make her family proud through battle. She would fight. She would slay dragons.   

 

But there was something about Hiccup. He changed Berk and in doing so changed her. He taught her that trust and understanding could be more powerful than a sword. She respected his intellect and his gut. She loved the way he looked at her with awe, gratitude, and an inner strength that she had nurtured and pulled from him. Their relationship was exhilarating and comfortable at the same time. He treated her like an equal. They were friends, partners, protectors and confidents. She was his voice of reason, he was her calming force. They grounded each other when needed and allowed the other to soar as required.

 

They fit together. This marriage made sense.

 

Plus, Astrid could not deny that in recent years she wanted more than just his companionship. She craved him. It took all her will power not to touch every inch of him when they were alone together. Despite her best efforts, the primal tick tock of Mother Nature had planted itself deep inside her. The sight of rounded bellies and swaddled babes filled her with an ache she tried to swallow, to bury and never think about, but it was there no matter how hard she denied it.

 

And that scared her.

 

She would follow Hiccup to the end of the Earth, but what if he asked her to stay home? Could she be the good Viking wife? Would Hiccup expect her to bow to his authority once they were married? Would she still love him if he did?

 

She startled at the swoop of cool air and the familiar quiet thump of Toothless landing behind her.

 

“Ah, here you are mi’lady.” Hiccup took a seat on the ground next to his fiancé and gazed upon the reflection of the near full moon.

 

“I don’t think you are supposed to see me the night before the wedding,” Astrid commented.

 

“Ya, well, if you didn’t want to be seen you would have found a better hiding spot,” Hiccup responded knowingly, “What’s up?”

 

“I don’t know. I just needed to get away.”

 

“It’s a little much, isn’t it? I hope you aren’t getting cold feet?”

 

“No,” Astrid lied, “Are you?”

 

“Nope, I definitely do not have cold feet. I just have one and it is toasty warm,” Hiccup pulled her into his lap and rested his chin on the top of her head, “I am very much looking forward making you my wife tomorrow.”

 

“What if I am a terrible wife? I can’t cook. I’ve never been good at the household things...”

 

“I don’t expect you to be.”

 

Astrid wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or wanted to punch him. 

 

Hiccup placed his hand under her chin and gently tilted her face so he could look her in the eye.

 

“Dad and I survived without a woman running our household for 20 years. That is not why I am marrying you.”

 

“I don’t know what your expectations are for me then. I am scared that things will change between us. I like what we have.”

 

“I am not expecting anything different, except rings on our fingers and your warmth in my bed. I love you, Astrid, just the way you are. I can wash my clothes and darn my own socks as I’ve always had. I need you to help me run and protect Berk. Without you, I’d be a sad cause for a chief…and probably dead, when I think about it.” Hiccup chuckled.  

 

“That’s probably true,” Astrid smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He pulled her close and kissed her back harder.

 

“Besides, if I wanted a wife to serve me, I’d have at least picked someone who can make a decent pint of Yaknog,” Hiccup teased.

 

Astrid slugged him in the shoulder just as he expected her to.

 

“Let’s go home. We have a big day tomorrow,” Astrid smiled.


End file.
